Sometime Around Midnight
by OkamiShadou98
Summary: All human AU - Buffy, a college Junior, works at a local bar called Ripper. When the owner's nephew Spike moves back to Sunnydale after spending five years abroad with his girlfriend, Buffy's world starts to change. Realizing the flaws in her own relationship, she is inexplicably drawn towards Spike. But some people are too broken to fix. Spuffy.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One - Long Road To Ruin**

The building, located nearly dead center on Grove Street, was easy to miss during the day. Its brick exterior had been painted an unimaginative grey, the blackened out windows only serving to make the appearance more dismal. It would have looked abandoned if not so obviously well cared for. The paint was not chipped or peeling and the sidewalk in front was devoid of even a single weed.

Despite that, most people who were bustling down the street hardly spared it a glance. Whether it was because the shoppers wished to finish their business before dinner or because the grey building had simply become so alarmingly mundane it no longer garnered any attention, it was largely ignored in favor of the brighter shops between which it was sandwiched.

If it was not for the lone blonde woman making her confidently towards the front door, the building might well have existed in a different dimension entirely.

Buffy shook her head vigorously, the long pieces of hair falling across her face tickling her nose. Reaching into a small compartment in her purse, she withdrew a key and unlocked the main doors of the grey building, a bar by the name of _Ripper_.

Stepping inside, she looked around the brightly lit interior.

It was a large space, the high ceilings making it seem bigger than its already far from modest three thousand square feet. The concrete floor was littered with tables and stools, most of which were concentrated around a small, raised stage.

Despite the stage, the owner was always adamant that _Ripper_ was a bar first and foremost, not a nightclub. Regardless, local bands played at the venue most weekends, drawing in hefty crowds of students from the local college.

As today was only Tuesday, business was anticipated to be much slower, only a few dozen people dropping in for a few drinks after work. It would not be the most interesting shift Buffy had ever worked but it was money so she was satisfied.

She made her way through the maze of tables, ending up at the bar - a massive piece of wood housing a collection of stools. Next to it was a hallway which led to the bathroom and storeroom. It also housed the owner's office, which was where she always headed at the start of a shift.

Without knocking on the door, which had a rather large sign displayed on it that read ' _Employees Only'_ in blocky letters, she pushed it open and entered the small space.

As tight as the office was, it was positively bursting with stuff.

An old maroon colored couch was pushed against the right hand wall, ideal for naps during break. Filing cabinets ran along the opposite side, all neatly labeled in the same elegant cursive writing.

The real centerpiece, though, was the L shaped desk that somehow managed to fit among everything else.

It was a massive piece of furniture, the large surface housing files, receipts, and, of all things, a single burner camping stove with a stainless steel teapot.

"Oh hello Buffy, I did not hear you arrive." a head appeared from behind one of two computer monitors.

"Hiya Giles." Buffy greeted her boss cheerily, taking a seat on the couch.

"If you would just give me a moment…" Giles returned to typing quickly on the smaller computer.

Buffy was content to wait, crossing her legs and she watched the man finish his work.

She had first met Rupert Giles seven years ago when her and her mother had first moved to Sunnydale in the middle of her Freshman year of high school. Her less than stellar school record - which may or may not have included a possible arson attempt - had earned her few friends among the staff of Sunnydale High. Giles alone had given her help, studying with her every evening after regular classes to help her pass.

As the school librarian, Giles had also been largely ignored by his colleagues and in him Buffy had found a sort of mentor. It was also through him she made met her friends, Willow and Xander, who both had used the library as an escape from school and their sometimes turbulent home lives.

So when Giles had sought a career change three years ago after the second high school principal in three years died under mysterious circumstance, Buffy had offered her assistance. She had spent her first two years of college waitressing most nights and learning all there was to know about the bar business. At the beginning of her Junior year, Giles had decided to promote her to a bartender as she was over twenty-one.

It was not glamorous work by anyone's standards, but it was home, just like the school library had once felt.

"Finished." Giles announced, pressing one final key and sitting back smugly in his ancient desk chair.

"What were you doing?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Informing Mr. Malcolm Reeder that his services will no longer be required at this establishment."

Buffy gaped at him, "You fired another bartender?"

It was an unfortunate side effect of having a bar in a college town, most students over the age of twenty one were more interested in _drinking_ at a bar than working in one.

Bartenders at _Ripper_ typically did not last long, either they quit or Giles would fire them for being lazy. It was good for Buffy who never had to deal with bad coworkers for long.

On the other hand, she had not had a day off in three weeks.

"Giles, this is getting a little extreme." she noted worriedly, "I mean, no one has lasted more than a week here since school started."

"I do apologize about the inconvenience, it was in no way my intention to cause you any duress." Giles said sheepishly.

"No, it's fine. At least Xander can work some nights." Buffy replied.

"How is it going with the construction company? He does not seem to get many hours." he frowned.

Buffy nodded, "Because he's new and everything, the foreman doesn't use him for more technical jobs. He said he'd hopefully be back to working full time with them in a few weeks. In the meantime, I think he prefers it here."

"Employment is actually the subject I wished to discuss you with."

Buffy sat up straighter, realizing the time for banter was over. This was business Giles.

"After interviewing what I suspect to be every young adult in Sunnydale, I think I have finally found a permanent bartender to work alongside you." he leaned forward, elbows resting on the desktop.

"Oh thank God." she sighed in relief, "Because I seriously need just one day off. Who is it? Someone from the college?"

"Actually, do you remember my nephew Spike?" he looked to her.

Buffy blinked in surprise. Now there was a name she had not heard in a long time…

* * *

 _The two library tables, arranged in a cross formation, had books strewn all across their surfaces. Crumpled notebook papers littered the floor and more than one pencil had been tossed savagely across the room and now lay forgotten underneath the bookshelves. In the midst of the mess sat Buffy, hands fisted in her hair._

 _The biggest English essay of the year was due tomorrow and she had absolutely nothing. Nada. Zilch._

 _She had done all the research, even going so far as to listen to Giles' advice and color code all her information, but her ideas simply refused to flow. They tickled her brain, itching to be released, but every time pencil touched paper, all that came out was a mess of words that made no sense._

 _Groaning, she rested her head on the table, reading to admit defeat._

 _Giles had been supposed to help her but had been called into a staff meeting without any explanation over an hour ago. She had no idea when he was supposed to return and in the meantime, the clock was ticking towards her impending doom._

" _Er… hello?" a masculine voice asked cautiously and Buffy sat up sharply, nearly sending her chair toppling backwards._

 _A man she had never seen before was standing just inside the library doors. He was dressed almost completely in black, minus the few silver bracelets adoring his left wrist. Buffy had seen the look before, though this was her first time encountering it in the suburb of Sunnydale. Everything from his black combat boots to the black spiked belt he wore on - you guessed it - black jeans screamed punk._

" _Hi." she responded, embarrassed to be caught so unaware, "Do you need something?"_

" _I'm lookin' for Rupert Giles." he responded, British accent now apparent._

 _The words were harsh, with a bit of a bite. It sounded nothing like Giles whose accent was so upper crust it made her feel like an uncultured child sometimes._

" _He's in a meeting right now. I'm not sure when it's over." she realized she had forgotten to introduce herself and added, "I'm Buffy Summers by the way."_

" _Spike." he replied, wandering farther into the room._

 _Yeah, definitely punk._

" _Well, I'll him know you stopped by." Buffy wanted him to leave. Aside from having to finish her essay, this guy was started to wig her out a little. Seriously, who had a name like Spike?_

" _S'alright. I'll just wait for 'im here. The meetin' can't go on forever." and with that, he flung himself down in the chair opposite her._

 _Buffy blinked, taken aback by the sheer audacity his guy was displaying. Who did he think he was, coming in and acting like he owned the place?_

 _Lowering her gaze to her hardly touched essay, she resolved to ignore Spike until Giles returned and could deal with him. She could not fathom what connection the librarian could have with the punk, they existed in different worlds._

 _For awhile, the only sound was the scratching of her pencil, usually followed almost immediately with the squeaking of her erasure. Having Spike in the room was not helping her, if anything, his presence was making it even harder to focus._

 _Pulling one of the opened books closer to her for reference, she skimmed the pages she had bookmarked. She was reading the words, she knew, but was absorbing nothing. Frustrated, she set the book aside and returned to her essay again._

 _Spike had been silent this whole time. She wanted to look up and see what he was doing but could not bring herself to do so. What if he caught her?_

 _Then she wondered if he was staring at her right now and sweat started forming on her palms, making it difficult to hold her pencil._

 _She wished Xander had been able to stay, he also had to finish his essay, but he had gone home early to avoid their Biology test. If he had been here, she was sure this Spike guy would have left instead of hanging around like a creep._

 _She realized that she had spent the last five minutes worrying about Spike instead of doing any work. Chastising herself, she decided to just take a quick peek at her unwanted guest and stop procrastinating._

 _Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and, keeping her head partially bowed so her hair hid her eyes, chanced a quick look._

 _Twin black voids surrounded by pale blue irises the color of the morning sky on a winter evening greeted her. Streaks of grey interrupted the blue like thin storm clouds, bleeding some of the warmth away and leaving behind a canvass of ice._

 _Buffy could only stare in amazement, seeking every minuscule detail in those orbs. She had never seen anything like them, nothing close._

 _Pale lids blinked closed for a moment, hiding the source of her fascination, and the spell shattered._

 _She realized how close Spike was to her, only a few inches separating their face, and did the only thing that occurred to her._

 _She punched him in the face._

 _He reeled back, clutching at his left eye with a startled hiss. Staggering out of his chair, one of his booted feet caught the foot of the table and sent him crashing to the floor._

 _Buffy leapt to her own feet, face afire from a blush that spread all the way to her neck._

" _What are you DOING?" she screamed at the figure sprawled on the floor._

 _Spike winced at her high pitched voice, rolling slowly onto his back. One of his arms was thrown across his face, hiding his eyes from her. The other was curled around his midsection, which had hit the corner of the table when he had fallen._

" _Think you broke my face." he moaned, ignoring her question._

" _Well you deserve it! Who the hell stares at people like that!" she had lowered her voice a little but her anger had not abated in the slightest._

" _I was tryin' to read your essay. Thought I could help." his voice was had become somewhat strained._

 _Buffy just gaped at him, speechless. What kind of person just invaded someone else's personal space like that?_

 _The library doors swung open, revealing a rather somber Giles. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he did not immediately notice the scene before him._

" _Buffy, I am sorry. The meeting ran far longer than anticipated. I am ready to help you with your… your… Spike, what happened?" Giles eyes were practically bugging as he stared at the man lying on the ground._

 _Spike, still shielding his face, gave a sigh of relief, "Oh thank God you're here. This lousy bint just attacked me." he gestured vaguely in the direction of Buffy._

" _I didn't attack you! You were being creepy so I… punched you." she argued._

 _Giles knelt besides Spike, looking concerned, "Are you okay?" he asked._

" _Feels like my eye exploded." he complained._

" _Don't be dramatic." Giles gently pulled Spike's arm away from his face._

 _Buffy's stomach dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of the floor when she saw the large red mark covering Spike's entire left eye and brow. The skin was already beginning to swell and pucker, promising a black eye. Tears leaked from the injury, tracking down the hollow of his cheek._

" _You'll have quite a bruise but otherwise you'll live." Giles proclaimed, prodding gently at the puffy skin._

 _Spike sat up sharply, swatting his hand away in irritation. He glared at Buffy, the effect diminished by the tears still flowing freely from the injured eye._

" _What are you takin'?" he demanded of Buffy._

" _Taking?" she asked, not following his train of thought._

" _You must be on somethin'. Steroids maybe. No girl hits that hard." he growled, rising unsteadily to his feet._

 _Giles rapped him lightly on the back of the head, "No more of that. Be polite." he reprimanded the scowling blond._

 _Buffy watched the interact, puzzled. Giles was treating Spike like they were friends or something._

" _So, you two are buddies?" she asked._

 _Giles shook his head, "Not quite. Spike is my nephew." he gave the younger man a hard look, "And right now he's supposed to be in class."_

 _Spike shrugged, "Class was canceled, the professor called out. I thought I'd drop by for a visit but Buffy here," - he said her name with contempt - "tried to kill me."_

" _Oh grow up!" she snapped, "I was doing my essay and he was staring at me."_

" _Er… you hit him because he was looking at you?" Giles asked, not sure he was following._

 _Buffy felt her blush return. When he said like that, it did sound like she might have overreacted a tad._

" _He was super close to me and I…"_

" _Tried to kill me." Spike finished defiantly._

 _She glared at him. This whole thing was completely his fault. She had been good and doing her work until he showed up._

" _Both of you stop quibbling, you're not children!" Giles said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes hard, "Buffy, I will help you with your essay in a moment. Spike, I think it is best if you go home and ice your eye."_

 _Spike looked annoyed at being told off. With a muttered curse, he stooped and picked up a book that had been knocked off the table when he had fallen._

" _See ya later Rupes." he said, stalking towards the door. Right before he left, he paused and threw over his shoulder at Buffy, "And by the way, the author of To Kill A Mockingbird is Harper Lee, not Harper Collins. That's the name of a bloody publishing company. No wonder your essay makes no soddin' sense."_

 _He was gone before Buffy could reply, library doors swinging wildly in his wake._

 _Giles sighed, leaning heavily against the table. He looked older, some of the vigor of only a moment ago bleeding from his frame._

" _You must excuse Spike, he is rather temperamental. I do not know where he gets it, his mother was quite lovely." he said softly._

" _Was?" she asked before she could stop herself._

 _Giles looked at the door soberly, "She died last year from a rather resilient form of tuberculosis. Spike was only seventeen at the time."_

" _Oh." Buffy sank back into her chair, no longer angry._

 _She wondered what it would be like if she were to lose her mother and what it would do to her, what it would do to her younger sister. Her mom always knew when she was sad and bought her favorite ice cream, would sit up with her and tell her stories about disastrous dates to make her laugh, or simply sit with her and watch old movies._

" _Believe it or not, I genuinely think he was trying to help you." Giles said quietly._

" _He should have said something instead of getting that close." Buffy said, a bit sharper than she had intended._

 _Buffy was used to being looked at by guys. As a cheerleader, she lapped up the attention. Something about having Spike that close at seemed bizarrely intimate. She had never felt that way before, like the world had somehow stopped turning._

 _And those eyes… they were gorgeous, plain and simple. She had never seen anything close to them, warm and cold at the same time, full of humor but also knowing sadness._

 _At fourteen, she was too young to understand the emotions she was feeling._

" _His social skills are not the best I'm afraid. He always preferred to be alone in his youth and, aside from myself and his mother, did not bother with other people."_

 _Great. The guy had just been trying to help her and she had blackened his eye._

" _Guess I should find him and apologize." she said aloud, giving Giles a humorless smile._

 _Giles was still staring at the library doors, "Do not worry, he will be back before long."_

 _She frowned, "Why? I was kind of a jerk and I punched him." she admitted, feeling guilty._

 _To her chagrin, Giles smiled at the comment._

" _Which is precisely why he will return. As angry as he was, I reckon he was quite impressed by you." he straightened, turning to take a look at Buffy's essay, "Now, I hope to God I misheard, but did you really mix up Harper Collins and Harper Lee?" he asked fearfully._

" _Um… maybe." Buffy did not look up, though she could imagine the look of horror Giles was almost certainly giving her._

 _It was a simple mistake really, what was the big deal?_

* * *

"Buffy?" Giles' voice through her reminiscing and she was brought back to the present.

"Yeah, I definitely remember Spike." she responded, "But I thought he moved to Britain four years ago?"

"Five actually." Giles frowned, "That woman talked him into it."

"Drusilla?" Buffy asked.

Drusilla O'Leary was someone she was not keen on ever seeing again. From the moment she had started dating Spike, the dynamic between him and the others had shifted dramatically.

Before, Spike had, just as Giles had predicted, hung out quite often in the library. Buffy had apologized and a sort of peace had been established between them. He was never been talkative but had helped with her homework often. Once or twice, he had driven her, Xander, and Willow home after lengthy nights studying at the library in preparation for finals.

The moment Drusilla had stepped into his life, the blond had become conspicuously absent from the group. He appeared only rarely, usually to speak with Giles.

The age gap had meant he and Buffy were never friends but she had always thought, given a few more years, they could have become close.

All that had ended when, at the end of her Sophomore year, Drusilla had demanded Spike move with her back to Britain. He had readily agreed and Buffy had only seen him twice since, the final time being after Senior year had ended.

Giles had needed help moving his personal collection out of the school library as he had just resigned and Spike had flown over for a visit. He had changed dramatically from the quiet person she had known, everything about him somehow louder.

Despite that, the two had gotten along well and she had been sorry to see him leave two weeks later.

Life for her, however, had gone on without him and despite the fact he had been a central part of her early high school life, memories of him had faded much like those of her classmates. In the last three years, she had hardly given a thought to the blond punk. If not for the fact he bore some similarities to Giles, it was likely she would not even be able to recognize him if he were to pass her on the street.

"Actually, Drusilla is the reason Spike is returning to Sunnydale. He claims she missed it here." the note of derision which soured his tone surprised Buffy.

Normally Giles was polite to a fault - especially when it came to women. To hear him speak so condescendingly about the raven haired female meant she must have wronged him greatly.

"But it was her decision to go to Britain in the first place." Buffy replied, confused.

Spike may have been quiet when she had known him but he had also been notoriously pig headed and his temper could be fierce when he felt pressured by others. She could not fathom him simply complying with his girlfriend's wishes and uprooting himself twice merely to appease her.

"My nephew, unfortunately, simply adores that woman. I was quite surprised to learn of the move actually. Drusilla has never been fond of me or my influence over Spike." Giles sighed, looking tired, "I have not spoken to him in nearly two years, something which I believe to be entirely her doing."

Buffy had never understood how a relationship could ever hold up when such unequal compromises were required. A relationship had to be built on proper give and take if it was to survive in a healthy manner.

Granted, she was hardly the guru of dating advice. She had only had two relationships, one in high school that had ended dreadfully and her current one.

"When does he start work?" she asked.

"Later this week. He will be here to alleviate some of the weekend pressure." Giles replied.

"And Drusilla?" she asked after a brief hesitation.

"The week after. Spike said she wants some time to say goodbye to her friends." his tone made it obvious that he thought Drusilla should just stay in England.

"Xander will be pleased. He practically hero worshiped Spike Freshman year." she said dryly.

"By all means, tell him when he arrives." Giles smiled, the dismal mood lifting. He glanced at his wristwatch and continued, "Which should be soon as we open shortly."

Buffy stood, "I have to finish taking inventory but from what I saw, we should be good for the rest of the week."

"Just let me know if we run low on anything. I already know we have only two kegs left of Budweiser but the next deliver will not be until Monday." he returned his attention to the computer.

Buffy saluted him smartly and walked out, purse tucked under her arm.

She wondered what it would be like to see Spike again. They had parted on good terms but that had been nearly five years ago. She did not think she had changed much since high school, aside from the typical things that went along with growing up.

Spike though, he could have gone in a million different directions. He might not even remember her anymore.

For some reason, the idea that he may have forgotten about her left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Entering the main room, she found Xander kneeling on the floor with a clipboard, doing inventory.

"Hey. I didn't hear you come in." she slid behind the bar and set her purse in the small locker the employees used for their personal belongings.

"I figured you were busy talking with Giles so I started working." he straightened, setting the clipboard on the back counter, "Ready for tonight? This is, if I remember correctly, your twenty second day in a row working."

Buffy rolled her eyes at his teasing tone, "Don't remind me."

"At least Malcolm is scheduled to come in tonight." he pulled out two short aprons, handing one to Buffy.

"No, it's just the two of us. Giles fired Malcolm."

Xander paled, "Damn, I can't do another weekend with just the two of us. We'll get overrun."

"At least we don't have to share our tips tonight." Buffy nodded towards the communal tip jar set up on the corner of the bar.

At the end of every night, all the employees would split whatever tips had been made, any left over money going back to Giles.

"Small consolation." he groaned, "Do you know when Giles is going to hire another bartender?"

"Actually, he thinks he's found a permanent one this time." she double checked the register, making sure it held enough singles to make change for patrons.

"I'll only believe it when I see it."

Buffy toyed with the idea of stringing Xander along a little longer but decided to put him out of his misery.

"Do you remember his nephew Spike?" she asked, smiling as Xander's eyes lit up excitedly.

"Of course! He was awesome." he grinned goofily, "One time he gave me a ride on his motorcycle. It was so cool!"

"He's coming back to America so Giles offered him a job here." Buffy, finished setting up, leaned against the wall and waited for the clock to hit six so they could open.

Never in a million years would she have ever guessed Xander and Spike would become close. Xander had idolized the blond, following him around the library every time he made an appearance and asking endless questions. Spike had seemed like an alien in Sunnydale, where his choice of style stuck out like a sore thumb.

Despite Spike's short temper in regards to people, he had answered every question posed to him with mild amusement. It was not long before the two found out they had similar tastes in movies and the two started geeking out, entering hour long conversations about Star Trek or Planet of the Apes.

Xander had been devastated when Spike had moved away.

"That's terrific! We used to email back and forth after he moved but we lost touch. When does he start?" he bounced excitedly on his heels.

Buffy giggled, "Later this week and you need to calm down. You're like a puppy!"

Xander stopped his fidgeting, though the spark remained in his brown eyes.

"Maybe you should work the floor and work off some of that excitement." Buffy said.

On weekdays, one person would work behind the bar while the other would serve the tables by the stage. Working the floor was never fun, it required moving around the room with drink laden trays and constantly being asked for things like napkins or refills.

"No way, it's your turn." Xander argued, "And besides, you're better at it."

Buffy's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the compliment, "Alexander Harris, flattery will get you nowhere."

He shrugged, "Worth a shot." he said sheepishly.

"Let's just trade off every hour." she decided, "It's easier that way."

"And because I'm such a gentleman, I'll take first shift." he vaulted over the bar, nearly face-planting. Recovering quickly, he gave a massive bow to hide the dull flush of embarrassment dusting his features.

Buffy rolled her eyes good-naturedly at his antics.

"It's opening time. Unlock the door will you?" she asked, straightening her apron as she prepared to work.

* * *

Music was throbbing from the sound system, the bass turned up too high. The first chance she got, Buffy was going to fix the settings. Someone must have been messing with them again.

Though it was nearly ten, the bar was crowded with two dozen people, most of them close to being buzzed. It was Xander's turn on the floor and he was tending to an additional ten people, moving so quickly he was a blur to her.

The turnout was not bad for a Tuesday, generally their worst night of the week. The tip jar already had a decent amount of money in it and the register was stuffed.

"Another?" Buffy asked a man with a denim jacket.

He nodded, handing over his empty beer mug. She refilled it, mentally counting how many the gentleman had already drunk. He would have to be cut off after this one, she decided, handing it back over.

Xander appeared with a tray full of empty glasses and an order.

"I need two Whiskey Sours and a tonic water for table eight." he said loudly, fighting to be heard over the music.

Buffy nodded, taking his empty glasses and setting them in the sink. Turning to the register, she entered the order and printed out the receipt.

"How are you doing?" she asked Xander as she set about making the drinks.

He leaned against the bar tiredly, taking a break for a moment.

"Pretty good. We close early tonight right?"

"At eleven." she confirmed, focusing on getting her pours right.

The bar door swung open, though neither bartender noticed. A group of five college students ambled in, looking around the premise curiously.

"How come we never come here?" one of them, a man with a square jaw, asked.

"That's because Finn's girl works here." another grinned, slapping the back of the largest member.

As raucous laughter rippled through the group, Buffy glanced up. The interior was not well lit and it took a moment for her eyes to zero in on the young men. She recognized most of them from the college, had even taken classes with some of them.

As they approached one of the tables, the lighting caught them right and Buffy froze, a half filled glass in her hand.

"Riley?" she murmured allowed, surprised to see her boyfriend here.

Despite the fact they had been dating for two years, he had not once stepped foot in _Ripper_ when she was working. He had never, in the strictest sense, approved of her working in a bar. Though he denied it, Buffy knew that he thought the job was beneath her…

And in a way, beneath him too.

As if he sensed her, he turned and looked towards the bar. Their eyes met and, after a brief hesitation, Riley made his way towards her.

Hastily, Buffy finished pouring the drink she had been neglecting and handed it over to the woman who had ordered it. She gave the bar an expert glance and, deciding that no one would need to be served in the next three minutes, moved to where Riley was now standing expectantly.

"Hey!" she said, leaning across the bar to kiss him quickly, "What are you doing here?"

"Gordon was complaining that we don't go here often enough." he replied, looking around with a frown.

"Well, it's good to see you anyway." she said.

Riley nodded, "All these extra night you're working, when do you get a day off?" he asked.

Buffy's response was halted as someone from farther along the bar called out, "Nother beer over here!" in a demanding tone.

"Hold on, I'll be right back." Buffy said, moving to where the shouting customer sat.

"Same thing sir?" she asked politely.

"Obviously. I've been ordering the same damn thing all night." he snapped at her angrily, not looking up.

Buffy tensed at the customer's belligerent tone but kept her voice even as she replied, "Just a moment." and moved to refill his mug.

Bringing the drink back, she set it at his elbow. The man glanced down at it and looked back up at her, leering as his eyes slid over her body appreciatively.

"Thank you darling." he said, eyes glittering.

Buffy retreated, knowing that starting a fight would not end well. If the man made an inappropriate comment, she would get Giles and have him tossed out. Until then, it would be easier to simply ignore him.

Returning to Riley, she smiled again. "Sorry about-" she stopped short, as he glared at her.

"What the fuck was that?" he spat.

Buffy watched him warily. He must have seen her interaction with the customer, it was the only thing that could have gotten him so bent out of shape.

"Nothing." she said indifferently.

"Nothing? That bastard was ogling you like a piece of meat!" he said hotly.

Fearing he would start a fight, she lay a hand on his arm and squeezed gently.

"Riley, it's fine. Some customers are assholes but it's no big deal."

After working in the bar for three years, Buffy had become accustomed to the idea that a certain amount of heckling was to be expected. So long as no harm came from it, she kept her head and would forge on. On rare occasions when a customer got handsy, Giles would unleash his full fury upon the unfortunate person. For all his gentlemen act, Giles had spent a good part of his youth on the streets of London and knew how to use his fists.

People who caused problems seldom made the same mistake twice.

Riley jerked his arm away from her and she bit her lip to hide her hurt.

"I hate that you work here!" he growled.

"We're _so_ not doing this now." she said quietly. A few customers near them were looking towards her curiously and she gave them a quick smile before looking back to Riley.

His jaw was working furiously, a muscle jumping as he grinded his teeth. She made no attempt to touch him again, his unexpected aggression making her nervous. Riley could be hot headed on occasion but this was the first time he had been so possessive of her.

"Well, when can we talk about this? You're working here every damn night. The only time I get to see you is during lunch if I'm lucky!" he was making no attempt to keep his voice down, drawing more and more attention.

"Tomorrow we'll talk, I promise." she said quickly, "But right now, I think you need to leave."

He gave her an ugly look, "Y'know, I'm joining the Army after college."

Unlike Riley, Buffy became quieter the angrier she got. If he had been paying any attention, he would have noticed that the blonde was positively fuming.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, voice cold.

"Nothing." he muttered, "See ya later." Turning, he stalked away from the bar, shouldering Xander out of his way.

Buffy was nearly shaking, anger and hurt fighting for control. She wanted to throw something. Hard.

It had been a long time since the last time she and Riley had fought. Usually, he was one of the most easy going people she had ever met. He had a mean streak though and at times like these, she wondered why she had ever put up with it.

"Buffsters, you okay?" Xander had slid behind the bar and was watching her anxiously.

"I'm fine." she said, trying to focus back on work.

It was like trying to stand in a moving bus though, her anger threatening to unbalance her.

"Listen, it's not too busy. You can go talk to Riley and I'll finish here." Xander offered.

He still looked anxious, shifting his weight from foot to foot tensely. Buffy felt guilty as she remembered that Xander's parents constantly fought. As a result, conflict always upset him.

"No, it's fine. He needs to cool off anyway." resolutely, she checked her customers, pretending she did not notice that Riley and his friends had left the bar.

Xander followed her as she made her way to the opposite end, "Well, take tomorrow off at least. Me and Giles can work."

"Thank you, but really, it doesn't matter." she paused by a couple who looked like they were ready to order.

Hands gripped her shoulders and wheeled her around, her shoes catching on the slip resistant mats on the floor. Nearly toppling over, she instinctively grasped at the arms holding her to maintain balance.

"Xander, what are you doing?" she exclaimed, startled.

He was looking at her seriously, not a trace of humor on his usually bright face.

"Buffy, Riley means a lot to you right?" he asked slowly.

Startled by how subdued he was, she nodded dumbly.

"Then take off tomorrow and talk with him. Your relationship is more important than work." Xander dropped his hands and took a step back.

"I… okay Xand. Thank you." she said, surprised at his sudden maturity.

But one could never put the boy off for long. A smile was already returning to his features, though it was small.

"Besides, Oz's band is practicing here tomorrow so Willow will be here." he leaned backwards slightly, checking the clock, "And my hour on the floor is up by the way so get your butt out there Summers."

Buffy giggled, her bad mood dissipating. Staying angry around Xander was impossible, he radiated joy and fun.

"Yeah yeah Harris." she responded, picking up one of the serving trays. As she moved past Xander, she impulsively kissed him chastely on the cheek.

He eyes widened and he gaped at her, looking very much like the pet goldfish she used to have as a child.

"Thank you." she said again, serious.

He swallowed, "No problem Buffy. We're friends right?"

"Until the end." she confirmed.

Moving onto the floor, hips ready to push people out of the way, she wondered what Riley had meant about joining the Army. He had brought it up once before though that had been last year and no mention had been made since. If he was bringing it up now, maybe he was serious this time.

But why say it in the middle of a fight like it was a threat? Because that was what it had felt like to her.

She signed, approaching a rowdy table. Tomorrow, the two of them would have a talk about all this. Until then, worrying about what if's would do her no good.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N - I apologize for the delayed update, some personal things came up which limited the amount of time I had to write. Thankfully, all that stuff is over now so updates should be more regular for a bit - once every two weeks._ _I also apologize for adding more appearances by Riley. Fortunately, he will not be around much longer so hang in there._

 _Special thank you to mother wilson, emmbearr and everyone who reviews, follows, or favorites. It makes my day to know people are enjoying the story._

 _Let me know what you think. I find Buffy much harder to write than Spike so any feedback at all would be greatly appreciated._

 _Enjoy!_

 **Chapter Two - One Of These Days**

The bus lurched as it rounded the next turn, the occupants bouncing on the hard plastic seats. Buffy tightened her grip on the headrest for the seat in front of her, trying to keep herself from being launched into the aisle.

She loathed riding the bus to work with a fiery passion but today there had been no other choice. Most people would scoff at a twenty-one year old woman not knowing how to drive but Buffy had learned at the age of sixteen that she was hopeless when it came to operating a vehicle. It was one of those things that, no matter how hard she tried, she had been unable to master… or even become adequate in.

The bus hit a pothole, her teeth rattling from the impact and she silently cursed Willow's class schedule. Usually, the redhead would drive Buffy to work on her way to visit Oz who lived in a house off campus. Thursdays, however, she had a late class which ran until six in the evenings. On these days, Riley would take her to work but after yesterday, she was hesitant to ask anything of her boyfriend which would lead him to _Ripper._

She had taken Xander's advice, taking off Wednesday to talk with Riley about his display two days ago. In her opinion, the talk had not gone too well.

The two had met for dinner at a small diner not too far from the college. At first, Riley had been the typical gentleman, preoccupying himself with making sure the food was to her satisfaction. The moment the conversation turned to her job however, everything had fallen apart in a truly spectacular way.

* * *

" _Buffy, I don't want you ogled at by fifty year old men!" he slammed his fist against the table, the plates rattling from the force._

 _She laughed bitterly, "Believe me, I don't want to be leered at either."_

" _It's not safe working there." he insisted, grimacing in distaste._

" _Giles would never let something happen!" she said, furious he would ever imply otherwise._

" _Oh c'mon. I know he was nice to you in high school or whatever but you place him on this pedestal. He's a businessman Buffy."_

 _She quaked with repressed rage. Giles had done so much for her and Riley knew that. It was thanks to the former librarian that she had made it to college in the first place. He had been there for her when Hank had decided to stop being a father, when Dawn had gone through her kleptomaniac phase, and when her mother had been diagnosed with a brain tumor._

" _Don't you dare speak about Giles like that!" she could not stop from raising her voice, "When he's not behind the bar, he watches the security feed hooked up to his office. If anyone gets fresh, he tosses them out personally. Besides, I'm not the only bartender. Xander is there too."_

 _Riley snorted, "Xander's pathetic. Even you're stronger than he is."_

 _Her eyes prickled with hot tears of rage and she blinked furiously to ward them off. She would not cry in front of Riley, no way. Blurrily, she watched as he skewered one of the french fries on his plate with a knife. He ate it moodily, glowering out the window and refusing to look at her._

" _Giles has a full time worker coming in later this week." she said quietly, knowing that the angrier Riley became, the harder he was to talk to._

" _Who is it?" he asked, still not looking in her direction._

 _It irritated her that he refused to look at her when she was trying to have a serious conversation._

" _His nephew, he's moving back from England." she said evenly._

" _How old is he?" he ask suspiciously._

 _That was it. Nice Buffy was officially done._

 _Standing abruptly, she picked up her purse and rifled through it. Ignoring Riley's surprised look, she withdrew several bills and tossed them on the table._

" _Buffy? What are you-"_

 _She cut him off, not in the mood, "I'm leaving Riley. That should be enough to cover my half of the check."_

" _No wait, come here." he rose but she stalked off, heading for the exit._

 _Riley could not follow, lest the waitress think he was trying to skip out on paying for the meal. He flopped back into his seat with a muttered curse as Buffy walked out of the diner and headed back for her dorm._

 _She strode with purpose, high heels clicking against the sidewalk. She had worn the shoes especially for Riley - they were a present he had gotten her for her last birthday - but now she wanted nothing more than to shove them into the closest trash can._

 _Anger was still thrumming through her, every nerve hot and tense. How dare he question her like she was untrustworthy. Who cared how old Spike was, as if his age made it more likely for her to cheat._

 _Did he really think so little of her?_

 _A crosswalk loomed before and she stopped, waiting for the light to change. Cars whizzed past, headlights so bright that she had to shield her eyes in order to see._

 _It occurred to her then, standing on a street corner surrounded by discarded soda cans and cigarette butts, that she and Riley had not even said 'I love you' the entire time they had spent in the diner..._

* * *

The bus slowed in a storm of screeching brakes at the stop on Grove Street. Most of the riders got up, Buffy included, intending to get off and she had to fight to stop herself from being shoved aside.

Public transit sucked.

She managed to get off the bus intact and started for _Ripper_ which was only a few buildings away. It was cold out, the wind stinging her face as it blew fiercely. Sunnydale was experiencing one of its rare low pressure systems, meaning the temperature had officially fallen below the sixty degree mark for more than a day. She pulled her coat closer around her, trying to ward off the foreign chill. The weather matched her mood perfectly, dismal.

She had texted Riley earlier, apologizing for walking out on their date. Despite the fact she knew her anger was justified, she also knew it could have been handled better. Looking back, meeting somewhere private may have been better for them.

He had not responded yet however which was not a good sign. He was infamously attached to his cell phone, rarely missing a call even in the middle of the night.

Work prohibited her from seeking him out in person. Xander and Giles had covered for her last night but asking them to do it again was not right. Besides, perhaps a little space was what they needed. She felt a little smothered by Riley at the moment and, judging by the fact he was ignoring her texts, he was not in the mood to talk with her anyway.

Approaching _Ripper,_ she reached into her pocket for the key. She was dismayed when her probing fingers came up with only pocket lint. Searching her other pockets came up with similar results. She must have forgotten the keys back in her dorm room. Riley had dominated most of her thoughts since last night, no wonder she had forgotten them

Fortunately, Giles usually left the back door unlocked for this very reason. Walking down the narrow alley that separated the bar and the music store, she rounded the corner. A few trash bags were piled up against the wall, along with some wooden pallets.

Several cars were also parked in the alley, one of which she recognized as Giles' ancient grey Citroen. Moving to the door, she tested the handle and was relieved to find it unlocked. Stepping inside, she found herself in the narrow hallway where the office was. As the door swung shut, the area was plunged into semi-darkness, only the dull red glow of the exit sign offering any light.

Buffy was well acquainted area and, despite the abysmal lighting, easily navigated her way to Giles' office, passing by the store room and bathrooms. As usual, she did not bother to knock before opening the door to the office.

"Hey Giles! Thank you so much for letting me have off yesterday, I know it must have been a major inconvenience but…" she trailed off as she realized another person in the room.

Giles graced her with one of his patented librarian glares of disapproval and said, a trifle sourly, "Buffy, I must ask that you do not barge in here unannounced. This is a place of business." he turned to the large man standing before his desk, "Mr. Thompson, I do apologize for the interruption."

Buffy's stomach knotted. Richard Thompson was the landlord for most of the buildings on Grove Street, _Ripper_ included. With a legendary scowl and an even more infamous temper, he was not someone to be crossed.

"It's fine Mr. Giles. We're just discussing the renewal of your lease. Please, allow your employee to continue her story." the sarcasm oozed from between puffy lips as the old man sneered at Buffy.

Giles maintained an even expression, though his jaw ticked in a way that Buffy had learned to dread. Gentleman he may be, the nickname Ripper had been well earned. She too was furious with the blatant disrespect being shown. Blowing up, however, could lose Giles his bar.

"N-no it was nothing. Giles, I'm really sorry about not knocking or anything. Um… I'll just go set up the bar while you finish up your meeting." she backtracked from the office, not wanting to make the situation worse.

Shutting the door, she leaned heavily against the wall and rubbed her arms nervously. Mr. Thompson had been problematic ever since _Ripper_ had opened. Originally, the businessman had not wanted a bar on what he considered _his_ street. Giles had gone back and forth with him for a good three months before a compromise had been made. Despite that, they were still on thin ice.

The fact of the matter was, losing the bar would financially sink Giles.

He was still paying off the loans from the bank for all the remodeling he had done, as well as the mortgage on his condo and a dozen other regular payments that plague all adults. It was the only reason Buffy was able to hold her normally free spirited attitude in check.

Sighing, she pushed off the wall and brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. Now was not the time to panic. The bar would open shortly and she still had a heap of work to do. Worrying unnecessarily would throw her off her game, an error Giles could not afford if the renewal of his lease was being called into question.

When had life gotten so difficult? It seemed only a week ago that she, Willow, and Xander were holed up in the library, eating Chinese food as they frantically tried to study for biology or English. Giles would sit in the back room, nursing a cup of tea as they went over their notes again and again. Willow would usually take charge, talking Xander and herself through whatever they did not understand. In turn, the two would keep Willow from having a full on panic attack.

She entered the main room, pausing when she noticed a ladder leaned up against the wall next to the stage speakers. She hoped nothing was wrong with the sound system - a live band was scheduled to play Friday night.

 _Crash_

The unexpected noise, coupled with her current state of unease, made Buffy jump with a rather undignified exclamation of alarm. Heart pounding, she looked around wildly for the source of the sound. Her eyes zeroed in on the bar, where something was moving, barely discernible from behind the bar top.

Tonight was Xander's night off and Giles was in his office so she should be the only other person in the building. Her first thought was a possible robbery but she dismissed the notion. No robber would be that loud.

Reaching into her purse, which swung from the crook of her elbow, she withdrew a small bottle of pepper spray. Her mother had insisted she begin carrying it at the beginning of Junior year and until now, she had never seen much of a reason for it.

"Who's there?" she called, wishing her legs would stop shaking.

A human hand appeared on the bar top, fingernails coated in chipped black nail polish. There was something familiar about that, a memory wedged deep in the recesses of her mind, but she was too keyed to dwell on it.

"Me." a definitely masculine voice said bordly as a figure hoisted himself to his feet and stretched, hands clasped above his head

He was wearing a tight black shirt which was taut over a slender but defined torso, a few inches of skin showing. Buffy however, saw none of this. Her almost bemused gaze was focused on the man's face.

"I was fixin' the sink. It leaks." he answered her unasked question, finishing his stretch and watching at her curiously, head cocked.

He looked different from how she remembered. Once long platinum hair was now cut short and styled into erratic spikes like a miniature mountain range. The face had matured, the last vestiges of fat that most teen carried now non existent. In its place were sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw.

Yet for all the changes, his eyes were the same icy blue that had enthralled her six years ago.

"Spike?" she asked, all thoughts of temporarily blinding him with pepper spray vanishing.

"That's me. My uncle mention me then?" he leaned against the bar casually.

She realized, with small twinge of hurt, that he did not recognize her. She should not have been so surprised really. The last time he had seen her, she had been hardly eighteen. It was not like they had been overtly close anyway. He had driven her home once or twice after a long night of studying but for the most part Spike had been Xander's friend.

"Actually, we've met before." she said, smiling.

He had the good grace to look somewhat embarrassed at not knowing who she was. Was this really the same punk teen who had fled to England five years ago? He seemed to have matured a bit, not that she had seen enough of him to judge. There was an air of confidence surrounding him, a comfort that only came from a little life experience.

"Oh really?" he scratched idly at his nose as he surveyed her closer, "Don't reckon so. I would've 'membered a bint with such a funny lookin' nose."

Never mind. He was still a total asshole.

Her grin morphed into a grimace. The last twenty-four hours had not been of the good. She had fought with her boyfriend, rode the bus to work, forgotten her keys, and now had to deal with this too. Her grip tightened on the pepper spray bottle and she wondered if Giles would take offense if she emptied the entire thing into those stupid bluebell eyes AND WAS HE LAUGHING AT HER?

"What's so funny?" she almost spat.

He was not even bothering to hide his grin, malicious amusement written all over his pale face. "Don't think Rupes would take too kindly to you sprayin' me with that shite." he dipped his head to indicate the pepper spray.

She snapped. He was too far away to spray effectively so she did the next best thing and chucked the small can as hard as she could at his smug face.

He did not even blink, handing shooting out to catch the pepper spray easily. "I see you're still tryin' to kill me Summers." he said lightly, inspecting the can, " _and_ you still can't take a bleedin' joke."

It took a moment for his words to register, her mind boiling over with anger. Everything from his stupid spiked hair to the silver eyebrow piercing peeking out from around a dark brow she found infuriating. When her brain finally caught up and realized what he had said, she froze.

"Wait, you remember me?" she sputtered indignantly.

His smirk grew even larger, upper lip twisting. "Well course I did. We only spent every bloody evenin' together in that fuckin' library for a year."

She reddened, his flippant remarks making her feel self conscious, like she was overreacting or something. A large part of her was hugely disappointed. When Giles had first mentioned Spike returning, she had thought he would be just like before he had left. It was becoming increasingly clear to her however, that the old Spike did not exist. In its place was this obnoxious jerk-off who looked like he had stolen his entire look, sneer included, from Billy Idol.

"You're an asshole." she said bluntly, angry at herself for being excited for this moment.

Spike's grin faltered for the first time, brow drawing down in confusion. "Am I missin' somethin'?" he asked, "Who shoved a stick up your arse?"

"Spike, I've told you a thousand times already. _Language_." Giles said peevishly as he strode into the room and caught the tail end of his nephew's question.

Buffy took one look at Giles' tense features and decided his conversation with Mr. Thompson had not gone well. It took an awful lot to rile up the Englishman and right now he was practically seething, bits of Ripper leaking through his stiff lip mask.

"How did the meeting go?" she asked uneasily, fear for the older man pushing out her irritation.

"Brilliantly all things considered." he sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose hard. "We reached a consensus on the lease renewal."

"I'm really sorry about interrupting. I had no idea he was coming in today." she lowered her gaze shamefully.

If Giles lost his bar because of her, she would never forgive herself.

"It's quite alright Buffy. I too had no idea he was coming." he gave her a tight smile. "Besides, it's all over and done with. We should redirect our focus to getting ready to open. I'll be in my office if you need me." He started back down the hall before pausing besides his nephew. "Oh and Spike? Play nice." he warned.

The blond rolled his eyes. "Yes sir." he said, raising a hand to his brow in a mock salute.

Buffy walked behind the bar, depositing her purse in one of the locking cabinets for safe keeping. They had a decent amount of work to do in the next hour. If Xander had been here, she would not be concerned but Spike was new. Giles had said he had worked in bars before but she did not know what sort of environment those establishments had been. For all she knew, he had never made a mixed drink in his life.

Spike was tossing the tools he had used to fix the sink into the communal toolbox. He seemed thoroughly engrossed in his task, not sparing Buffy so much as a glance. Well fine, if that was how he wanted to play, it was no skin off her back.

Opening the small fridge, she pulled out several lemons and set them on the plastic cutting board they used for citrus. Cutting the fruits in half, she began to slice them thinly for waters, rums, and colas. The sharp scent from the lemons stung her nose, making her eyes tear and she blinked rapidly to ward off the feeling.

Glancing over to where Spike was, she watched as he set the toolbox back in its place under the counter and washed his hands quickly. Drying them on his faded black jeans, he looked around.

"You got an inventory list?" he asked.

She placed the lemon slices on a plate and returned it to the fridge. "I'll do it." she said coldly, not forgetting his insulting behavior from before.

"Right then. What should I do?"

"Nothing. I've got it covered." she shouldered past him none too gently and picked up the clipboard before checking the bottles lined up on the glass shelves.

"Summers, er, Buffy." he started awkwardly.

"Seriously, I don't need your help." she cut him off. "I can do this on my own. I'm not an idiot."

"I know that!" he protested with a frown. "Listen, if this is about before -"

"It's so not okay? So just, I don't know, just leave me alone."

He groaned loudly and she hoped that meant he would give up and stop pestering her. Giles' nephew he may be, she did not have to put up with his insults .

"I'm sorry 'bout the jokes alright?" he sounded fairly exasperated, though genuine.

"It's no big deal."

"Yeah, it is. I was bein' a right prat and 'm sorry. Really. My flight got in this mornin' and then there was some misunderstandin' with my motel reservation so I haven't even checked in yet. Not that that is any excuse."

"You just got in this morning?" she frowned and turned to face him, "Why are you here, shouldn't you be sleeping off the jet-lag?"

He grinned humorlessly, "I promised Rupes I'd work tonight and 'sides, I didn't fancy kippin' in my car."

Buffy cocked her head, studying him closer. His half closed eyes, which before she had attributed to boredom, she now realized to be a sign of exhaustion. The skin around them was baggy and dark, obvious now she was nearer. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was greasy, some of the spikes flopping over sadly.

"When was the last time you slept?" she asked. "My dad went to London for work once and it was a ten hour flight so if you haven't even checked into a motel yet…"

He shrugged, "Sometime yesterday morning. I can't sleep on planes."

Buffy felt badly for the man before her. She knew the debilitating fatigue that accompanied sleepless nights, especially around finals, but could not imagine going thirty-six hours without sleep and still functioning. She wished she had not been so angry with him when he had been joking with her. The raw state she had been left in from her fight with Riley was like a poison, leaving her on edge, and now someone else had paid for it. She knew her tongue could be incredibly sharp when she was irritated. It was one of those Summers women traits.

"I'm sorry. Giles has a couch in his office. You could take a nap before we open." she offered.

"Thanks but 'm fine. I'll have to time to sleep before work tomorrow." Inventory done, he set the clipboard aside and looked to her expectantly, waiting to be assigned another task.

Buffy warded off a frown at his casualness. As bad as she felt that he had not slept, another part of her could help but worry about what would happen as the night progressed. Thursday nights were typically busy and the last thing she needed was for him to become slow or clumsy. Especially because Xander was not scheduled to come in tonight, meaning she would be left on her own if something happened with Spike.

"Are you sure?" she asked, trying to not sound bossy. "Setting up doesn't really require two people." Finishing with the cash register, she closed it and faced him fully.

He raised a brow at her almost defiantly. "I said 'm fine. Now, you got anythin' else you need done?"

She decided starting another argument was not worth any effort and moved on. "We need some stuff from the storeroom. C'mon, I'll show you where the extra inventory is."

For some reason, Spike found her statement highly amusing. She could hear him chuckle behind her as she led the way to the heavy door across from Giles' office. Unlocking it with the key from the bar, she shoved open the door and turned on the light.

The room was small, the same size as the office. Shelves lined with bottles covered the walls, a few milk crates on the floor holding even more.

"This is the storeroom. Obviously." she picked out a few things they would need and tucked them under her arm. "It doesn't hold a lot which is why Giles is so anal about his clipboards and inventory. Um, he usually orders stuff on Mondays so if we start to run out of things early, you'll need to make sure he knows beforehand."

She was not sure how to talk to Spike. Giles had mentioned that the blond had some experience in bars and he was also four years her senior so talking down to him like she was in charge did not feel right. On the other hand, she knew far more about the daily running of _Ripper_ than he did.

"Giles said you've worked in bars before." she said, in what she hoped was an offhand tone, as they returned to the main room ladened down with bottles.

Spike nodded in affirmation as he began to set the alcohol on the shelves, labels out so patrons could read them. "Been doin' it for five years, ever since I went back to London. Started as somethin' to do while I was lookin' for a real job but I never got 'round to that."

"I mean, the money's not bad even if the hours suck sometimes." she said, helping him finish turning bottles. "Of course, Giles is a really great boss which is the whole reason I even considered doing this. Never in a million years did I ever think I would be working in a bar."

"Yeah, Rupes is quite charitable isn't he?" There was something in his tone, a lurking darkness that had not been there before. "He's a decent bloke."

"He's great," she agreed. "He's the whole reason I went to college. Without him, I would have probably flunked out of school."

Spike did not respond. Finishing with the bottles, he picked up a rag and wetted it at the sink. Picking up a glass at random, he began to polish it. His movements were gentle, delicate even, as he removed the faint water stains left over from a previous washing. The only sound was the occasional clicking as one of the rings on his fingers knocked against the glass.

The abrupt break in conversation surprised Buffy. She had thought the two of them were getting along well, all things considered. Maybe Spike was just getting ready to work, clearing his head or something to rein in his focus. Or maybe he had simply grown bored with her. Every word she had spoken to him had been about work or Giles, two safe topics. For whatever reason, that had just been how the conversation had flowed. Impersonal. Uninteresting. Had she seriously taken him on a field trip to the store room? What could possibly be more lame?

She watched him methodically work his way through the beer mugs, face vacant as if he were lost in thought. Her eyes were drawn to the eyebrow piercing, the silver stud in his left ear, the combat boots his jeans were tucked into. She tried to match it up with the almost somber expression he wore and found they did not mix.

It was like staring at two different people.

She saw so little of Giles in him. Where once they had looked similar, Spike's face was all hard angles. Giles' features were much softer, fatherly was a good word to describe it. They were different in height, temperament, and social standings, practically two strangers.

And yet, their bond was bizarrely strong.

Giles had never had much patience with the self proclaimed punks who would swarm _Ripper_ during the weekends. They were wild, whistling at female customers and getting into fistfights. Pigs in leather jackets. Yet never once had she heard the older man complain about Spike and he had been, arguably, far worse with his behavior.

Similarly, Spike had treated his tweed clad uncle with something akin to reverence. Every day after his college classes had ended, he would tramp into the high school library and help Giles finish his work for the evening. The two would then depart together when she and her friends had decided they had stalled going home long enough.

Even when the two were fighting, the pattern had never changed. Oh there would be angry words spat back and forth, a ping pong game of insults and backhanded compliments, but everything would be forgiven before long.

Which is why Spike's abrupt departure to England had left everyone surprised. In hindsight, they should have known something was up.

He would start to show up at the library later and later, sighting vague excuses like class ran late or he was studying. Eventually, he would cease to appear altogether. Giles steadfastly believed whatever had been going on with his nephew was temporary. He would always leave a clean spot on his desk for Spike to do his work even as his days of absence stretched into weeks.

She had not been present when Spike had informed Giles he was moving with his girlfriend. One day the bleach blond was there and the next he had vanished. Her and her friends had quickly realized that they should not mention Spike as it always put Giles into a dark mood.

Eventually, the two had reconciled through emails and phone calls but even these exchanges were sporadic. As Giles had mentioned a few days ago, he had not spoken or seen Spike in two years.

Which begged the question, why was he here at all?

"Anythin' else need doin'?"

His words jolted her back to the present and she blinked to clear the fog that had settled over her mind. Spike was still cleaning glasses, leaning over the sink as he did so.

"Er, no. I mean, we still need ice but that can wait until just before opening."

He grunted and continued with his task, eyes seeking every speck of dust that may mar the glass surface.

Well at least he had spoken. Again, however, every word that passed between them was grounded in work. If Spike was to become a permanent staff member, it was only natural they should get to know each other a little better than that. Besides, they had been almost friends once. Pretending otherwise did not sit well with her.

"So, are you happy to be back in Sunnydale?" she asked, leaning a hip against the mini fridge.

He glanced up but did not stop working. "It's alright. The weather's nicer but 'm not really built for it am I?" - tapping one pale forearm to highlight his point - "Sunburn's not somethin' I missed."

His words shook a memory loose and she grinned, holding back the urge to giggle. "I remember that burn you got at the beginning of summer my Sophomore year. We were all quietly studying for finals and you bursted in red as a tomato."

He evidently remembered as well as the corners of his lips pulled upward into a faint smile. "Rupes was aghast. He made me keep ice packs on it for days."

"Well it _did_ look terrible. And Giles never got over it. He constantly reminded us to wear sunscreen, even if it was cloudy out."

"Did he? I don't remember that."

"Well, you left a few months later and he didn't start telling us until the next summer anyway." her grin wilted as she remembered how protective Giles had grown with the loss of his nephew.

Spike, however, did not notice. Setting aside the last glass, he straightened and stretched his back. His body cracked and popped with the motion and he winced.

"Sound bloody sixty don't I?" he said.

Buffy had a decision to make. She could either let the conversation die off and lament about the past or she could give a honest go of starting over. Whatever issues her and Spike had once had was over now. They were older and more mature - her more than he.

"Don't let Giles catch you saying that." she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "The word 'old' gets him all pissy."

The amused look she received made warmth bubble in her gut. Maybe this would all work out okay.

* * *

They had only been open an hour and the place was already swinging. Every bar stool was taken as usual and nearly half of the tables by the stage were also filled. Giles had taken over serving duty, moving back and forth with an agility more befitting of a man half his age as he balanced the laden plastic serving tray.

"Is it always this busy?" Spike asked from somewhere in the vicinity of her elbow as he crouched down to retrieve a martini glass.

She addressed the peaks of his hair which vibrated slightly from the bass of the sound system. "This is kinda average. The weekends are way worse."

Buffy had been pleasantly surprised to find Spike was more than adequate as a bartender. He was fast and precise, never spilling or screwing up drinks. He also did not run into her, something Xander still struggling with.

"Bloody hell." he said, rising with the glass and tossing ingredients together quickly.

"What, can't take the pressure?" she teased, ringing up an older woman's drink order.

All she got in return was a raised brow, an expression she was learning meant that he would not even dignify her question with an answer.

The two of them had been bantering the entire evening, much to Buffy's delight. The ill feelings from earlier had been all but forgotten. She and Spike had found a sort of groove, exchanging light hearted insults as they worked around one another.

Someone banged on the bar top behind her impatiently. "Hey, what's it take to get some service?"

Buffy blushed, realizing that she had been shirking her responsibilities. "I'm sorry sir." she said hastily as she turned around. "What can I get for you - Xander?"

"Hiya Buffsters." Xander smiled at her, leaning on his elbows.

"What are you doing here? It's your day off." she looked behind him to where Willow and Oz were standing. "Hey guys."

"We all wanted to meet Spike!" Willow said excitedly. "But I guess we're not really meeting because we've already met before."

"Re-meeting?" Oz offered, lip twitching slightly.

"Yes!" Willow agreed. "We all want to re-meet Spike."

Xander ignored the couple, addressing Buffy instead. "Last night Giles said Spike was supposed to start work tonight. I was going to text you about it but I figured I'd let it be a surprise."

"Oh believe me it was." she murmured, looking to where Spike was.

Currently, he was working on the opposite end of the bar, making drinks for a large group that had come in together. He was smiling good naturedly, keeping a conversation flowing as he lined up a half dozen finished drinks.

"Oh shit, he's terrific." Xander watched the blond, wide-eyed. "Giles is gonna fire me isn't he?"

Buffy leaned over and slapped him gently on the shoulder. "No way. Giles loves you Xand."

Spike must have sensed that the group was staring at him as his head inclined in their direction. His eyes raked across the newly arrived trio warily though his hands continued to make drinks with practiced ease. Not wanting him to think they were talking negatively about him, Buffy offered a smile and gestured for him to join them once he was finished with his customers.

"That's him?" Oz asked curiously. Of the group, he was the only one who had never met Spike. "He looks cool. Definite late 70s vibe going on."

"Giles must be happy." Willow said mostly to herself.

Looking up, Buffy picked out Giles from where he was serving a table. To the unpracticed eye, the older man did not look different from any other day. To her however, the changes were obvious. His face, and she had no idea how such a thing was possible, looked less lined. There was a brightness in his eyes that she had nearly forgotten ever existed.

She had never really known the connection between Spike and Giles. They were close of course but it was more than the type of affection normally found between family members. There had been a sort of desperation to the way they had held onto another, as if one would become lost without the other.

Neither had ever explained why Spike and his mother had been in America in the first place and she doubted the answer would ever be made plain to her. All she knew was that Spike's existence, despite how annoying it could be, was a sacred thing for Giles, almost like a father and son.

And if it made the old man happy, then she was adamant in making sure Spike stuck around.

Not that she had to worry. Spike had been nothing less than charming after their poor reintroduction. His natural charm, far from dissipating, had been honed into a confidence that oozed from him. Every woman who had come up to order a drink had been drawn to him like a fish to a hook. The result was the tip jar was stuffed, the overeager women anxious to make an impression on _Ripper's_ newest addition.

She smiled to herself, wondering if the patrons would have been so enthusiastic to part with their money if they had known that the bartenders split the tips.

Her internal musings were broken as Spike appeared next to her and leaned backwards against the counter, feet crossing.

"Hey Xander, Willow." - he paused for a fraction when he noticed Oz - "And bloke I've never met."

"Oz." the smaller man held out his hand and Spike shook it.

"'M Spike. Though I reckon you already knew that."

Xander, always the hyper puppy, was bouncing on his heels. "You remember us?" he asked.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Jus' like I told Summers, we hung out every bleedin' day for over a year. Course I 'member you lot."

"It's nice to see you again." Willow, in contrast to Xander, had become somewhat shy.

"And you. Nice to see nothin's changed." he looked sideways to Buffy pointedly. "You shoulda seen how Summers thought to say 'ello."

"What did you-" Willow's eyes widened. "Oh no, did you punch him again?" she asked, pained.

Buffy threw her hands in the air. "Will everyone stop holding that over my head? I only hit him-"

"Tried to kill me." Spike interjected, suddenly finding the ceiling of paramount interest though he could not hide the slight quirk of his lips.

She rounded on him. "I did not try to kill you!"

Oh, maybe she had said that a little too loudly. Most of the people sitting at the bar were staring at her, drinks forgotten. A few of Spike's new fan club were glaring at her openly, scowling so harshly she could _feel_ the heat.

"She tried to pepper spray me." Spike continued, not caring about the crowd. "An' all over a bloody joke to boot."

Oz snorted, the equivalent to a full blown laugh for the taciturn man. "When everyone said I was going to meet Giles' nephew, I was thinking something more… well like Giles."

Spike smirked, leaning across the bar top as he lowered his voice. "Oh believe me. He used to be just as bad as me."

The group had no choice but to lean closer to hear what he was saying. Buffy, trying to ignore the odd looks she was still receiving, realized Spike was quite the entertainer. He knew exactly how to tell a story, her friends hanging on to every word.

"When I was ten and had just moved here with my mum, Rupes had all sorts of stupid rules. One was no one was ever to go into this locked drawer in the kitchen. Me bein' me, had to see what my dear stiff lipped uncle was hidin'. I pried it open one day after school while everyone else was out and found a few hand rolled joints. Rupes caught me tryin' to light one. I thought he was goin' to snap my neck, he was so brassed off."

Her friends all laughed, shooting delighted looks at an oblivious Giles. Buffy laughed along with the rest but something from the story tugged at her mind.

Giles had told her Spike's mother had died when he was seventeen. According to what Spike had just said though, he had been living with his uncle since ten. That was an awfully long time. She wondered why.

A few people were beginning to get antsy, holding up empty glasses pointedly. Spike went off to attend to the customers while Xander and the rest drifted off to a table not far away to hang out.

Buffy followed after Spike, picking up glasses and setting them in the bus bucket by the sink to be washed later. She stacked them carefully, not wanting any to break. By the time she was satisfied, Spike had finished serving all the customers and was putting money into the cash register.

The questions from before were still niggling around in her head, desperate to be answered. It was not like her to pry into the past's of others, she would hate if anyone did it to her, but there was something important about this one.

"Hey Spike." she began, addressing his back. "I was just wondering, why were you and your mother living with Giles for so long?"

She had tried to be casual about it but Spike's shoulders tensed at her prodding, his tight shirt stretching as he hunched forward a bit.

"Mum wanted to move so we moved. Nothin' to it." he said sharply.

Buffy's stomach sank at his hostile tone. She had crossed an important line. They had been getting along so well and now she had ruined that by opening her mouth.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." she apologized quietly.

He half turned towards her, studying her with a scowl. She wondered what he was looking for.

Whatever it was, he must have found it because some of the tenseness left and his face fell back into neutrality.

"S'alright." he said. ""Scuse me." and without warning he went to the opposite side of the bar, smiling and talking to customers as if nothing had happened.

The abrupt about face was so smooth. One moment he was upset and the next he was the height of cool and collected. While it was an impressive switch, it made Buffy feel uneasy. She could not tell if he was angry with her, those emotions hidden behind this new mask. Looking back, she realized he had been doing that all night. He had hidden his exhaustion by making fun of her earlier and now was pushing his reaction to her question under that charming blanket.

It was an odd trait to have, what had necessitated its development?

The two did not talk much for the remainder of the night. They worked with the same flow from before but the only words they exchanged were decidedly work related. This had not escaped Giles' notice, who Buffy had caught watching his nephew almost sadly as the younger man became quiet.

By the time that last customer had left, Buffy was feelings rather shitty.

One of her worst traits was impulsiveness. Normally it hardly ever got into trouble. Maybe a few awkward situations but things were always salvageable. Spike's aloofness spoke of something else however.

He was more guarded, literally. When before they had occasionally brushed against each other as they worked in the narrow space, he had been careful to avoid contact with her. In was such a small detail but it resonated with her all the same, his taking extra care to avoid touching her.

"You two can leave if you're finished." Giles set his serving tray down tiredly and sank onto a bar stool.

"Gettin' old?" Spike asked with a raised brow.

The older man sighed, scrubbing at his forehead hard. "Piss off." he replied eloquently.

Spike was not perturbed by the remark. Reaching for one of the newly rinsed tumblers, he took a bottle of whiskey off the shelf and half filled the glass before setting it at his uncle's elbow. Giles took the drink gratefully, tossing it back in one swallow. Dutifully, Spike refilled the glass.

Buffy watched the exchange silently from where she was counting the money in the tip jar. As annoying as Spike's fan club had been, they had given quite a bit of money. She had already counted out over a hundred dollars and the jar was only two thirds empty.

"How were sales?" Giles asked.

She double checked the piece of paper which she had written the total earlier. "$3,457" she replied.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Above average for a Thursday." he noted. "Hopefully we can keep that trend up." Finishing off his whiskey, he checked his watch. "We should all turn in, it's getting late. Spike, would you be so kind as to drive Buffy back to the college."

The blond rolled his eyes. "Can't you take 'er? 'M tired." he protested.

"Nope." Giles said apologetically. "I just drank. Getting caught buzzed driving would affect my business."

Spike's eyes narrowed, his arms crossing. "This better not be 'bout me startin' college again. I dropped out. Twice. 'M not tryin' again."

Buffy frowned. She had not been aware Spike had dropped out of college. When he had moved, she had assumed he had transferred or something. He had loved school from what she remembered, always carrying around some old book or writing notes. Every time she had been stuck on a school assignment, he had helped her out, his large wealth of knowledge useful for everything from geometry to English essays.

"Don't act so petulant." Giles reprimanded him. "I merely thought it would do you some good to drive around and re familiarize yourself with the area. It is a good opportunity to look at some of the apartments and such for sale. Surely you do not expect to live in a motel long term."

Spike's jaw was clenching, a sure sign of his rising temper. He had never taken kindly to being told what to do, even by his uncle. Giles was unfazed and eventually Spike dropped his gaze to the floor, conceding defeat.

"Guess I'll do it. What does one more hour awake matter anyhow? Summers, you ready?"

She nodded, a little uneasy. Spike seemed to be in a foul mood now and being stuck in a car with him for any length of time did not sound even remotely appealing.

"Just about." she said, retrieving her purse from where it was stashed in the staff locker.

Spike had procured a jacket from somewhere, a long leather duster which brushed the tops of his boots. The coat finished his look, making his slight form appear bigger and more impressive.

"'M parked out back." he said, leading the way towards the exit. "Later Rupes." he called over his shoulder.

"Bye Giles." Buffy said.

They exited the building, the flickering overhead light casting weakly over the area. Spike made for the only car aside from Giles', a massive black thing with a white pinstripe.

"You flew this over?" she asked in amazement.

He unlocked the door manually. "Yeah. Costed me a small fortune but I couldn't leave 'er behind." he patted the car affectionately as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Following suit, she settled into the passenger seat, setting her purse between her feet. She had hardly buckled when Spike turned the key in the ignition, a dull roaring filling the alley as he hit the gas and took off. He took the turn onto Grove Street sharply, tires squealing in protest. Once on the main road, he let up and dropped back to the speed limit.

He glanced sideways to where Buffy was holding onto the door handle, white knuckled.

"Sorry 'bout that." he said, returning his gaze to the road.

"It's fine. I just wasn't expecting the car to take off like that." she said, still not releasing her death grip on the handle..

Buffy stared out the window, watching familiar buildings streak past. For a while, they road in heavy silence. Several times she looked to Spike but he was focused on driving.

They were nearing the college now and still not a single word had passed between them. She did not want to end the night like this, not when it had started so nicely.

"Listen, I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to pry. It won't happen again" she said.

"S'alright." he shifted in his seat.

"You can drop me off here. Stevenson Hall is just over this hill." she pointed out as the car passed the entrance to the college.

Spike shook his head, ignoring her request. "Wouldn't be proper for a gentleman to leave a lady to walk home alone this late."

"Gentleman? Where?" she asked, mock searching for another individual in the car.

Spike chuckled, a low rumble from his chest. "Boys must be lined up 'round the block to date you."

"They better not. I already have a honey."

"Do you now?" he asked with polite interest.

"Yep. You'll probably meet him at some point. He lives in one of the fraternity houses. Oh, this is me."

Spike slowed to a stop before Stevenson Hall, a large four story building. He unlocked the door and she climbed out.

"Thanks for the ride Spike."

"Anytime." he replied.

She swung the door shut and he waved before gunning the engine and taking off again. All in all, tonight had gone rather well and she had not thought once about Riley.

Oh wait…


End file.
